Kissinger's Latest Mission; Briefs Sixth Graders in Visit to His Old Neighborhood

Henry A. Kissinger, German refugee, walked into a classroom of children of immigrants from the Dominican Republic and looked for common ground.

Few raised their hands when he inquired whether they were born abroad (though some clearly had not understood the word ''abroad''). Almost every arm shot up when he asked who shared a room with a sibling, as he had. But none of the 30 sixth graders in their neat school uniforms of white shirts and dark pants nodded along when this century's most famous American diplomat told how he and his brother had to sleep in the living room, waiting up until everyone else had retired for the night.

''See,'' he said, ''you're better off than we were.''

The classroom, at Eleanor Roosevelt Middle School in Washington Heights, was just a few blocks from the high school Mr. Kissinger attended six decades before. The lesson plan yesterday was Mr. Kissinger himself.

He spoke of life in a cramped three-room apartment and in a tense White House on the eve of President Nixon's resignation, trying to explain his path from the shadow of the George Washington Bridge to the power elite of Washington. He talked about the Holocaust and the cold war, Joe DiMaggio and Oscar de la Renta, 55-cent bleacher seats in Yankee Stadium and V.I.P. tickets to the World Cup.

''They have some comparable background to me,'' Mr. Kissinger, 76, said after the hour was up. ''When I drop in like this, what I can do is show them that there is a way out of here, and you can do it by your own efforts.''

Mr. Kissinger is one of dozens of celebrities visiting classrooms around the country this week to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Teach for America, the nonprofit group that recruits recent college graduates to teach in poor and struggling school districts. Across the hall from him yesterday at Eleanor Roosevelt school, also known as Intermediate School 143, was Al Roker, the weatherman. George Stephanopoulos, a White House adviser from a later era, was a few blocks away.

In Harlem, Oprah Winfrey was teaching sixth graders, too, inviting them to adopt her habit in keeping a daily journal of five things for which they are grateful. Ms. Winfrey pointed out that her list was filled with ordinary items that were unrelated to her fame and fortune, like a good workout over the weekend and a safe trip to New York.

Ms. Winfrey was a surprise guest, but the teachers of the sixth-grade class at I.S. 143 had spent a week prepping their students for Mr. Kissinger's visit. They had to.

''When we said his name, they were like, 'Who is he?' '' said Justine Papierski, the homeroom teacher. ''Then we showed a picture. They said, 'He's old.' They said, 'Why would he come here?' ''

By the time Mr. Kissinger arrived for third period yesterday, the students had read excerpts from Walter Isaacson's less-than-flattering biography. (Mr. Kissinger reluctantly autographed the teacher's copy after class, and signed with much more flourish his own ''Diplomacy'' for the school library.) They had decorated the classroom with construction-paper cutouts resembling balloons and books saying ''A World Restored'' and ''Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy,'' titles of Mr. Kissinger's 1950's works.

Attentive and curious, if somewhat befuddled by his signature accent and formal tone, the children were ready with questions.

''What is your favorite sport?'' asked Omar Guzman, 11, who hopes to be a professional baseball player.

Soccer, it turns out, from childhood kick-arounds in Europe. And, yes, Mr. Kissinger is a Yankees fan. Joe DiMaggio, he said, was one of his heroes. That was helpful. The students had all heard of Joe DiMaggio.

''If somebody had said, you have a choice between being friends with Joe DiMaggio and being Secretary of State, I would have thought Secretary of State was crazy; I would have picked DiMaggio,'' Mr. Kissinger told the class. ''But later on, when I was out of office and he was retired, I got to know Joe DiMaggio. I got both. I was lucky.''

The Washington Heights where the Kissingers lived after fleeing Furth, Germany, and the Nazi reign of terror in 1938 is gone now. The grand old movie theater he remembers, the RKO Coliseum on 181st Street, is rundown. The Jewish population has dwindled to a small enclave in a Dominican swath, and German shop signs have been replaced with restaurant specials in Spanish. The streets that produced Dr. Ruth Westheimer, the sex therapist, are now far more famous as the home of slugger Manny Ramirez.

Nearly 96 percent of the students at I.S. 143 are Hispanic, and 92 percent qualify for free or reduced-price lunches. The school, which is brightly decorated with student artwork inside and out, typically outperforms similar schools on standardized tests.

Mr. Kissinger moved to midtown long ago -- East 52d Street, to be precise -- and the homecoming was a little awkward. The students missed most of his jokes. He reached out by saying that he visits the Dominican Republic regularly to see his friend Oscar de la Renta, but the children thought that was just the name on a label.

''You have to remember,'' he began, in response to a question about President Nixon. ''Well, you don't remember,'' he corrected himself, ''but you should know.''

Mr. Kissinger asked the students with questions for him to first tell him what they want to be when they grow up.

Joshua Reyes said he wants to join the Central Intelligence Agency. ''During the cold war,'' he asked, ''were you helping the Communists?''

''I was very anti-Communist on the one hand,'' Mr Kissinger said. ''On the other hand, when you look at nuclear weapons and you know what they can do, you have an obligation to promote peace. If you have a high position in government, if you're not controversial, you're not doing your job.''

Cynthia Valdez, who hopes to be a lawyer, wanted to know Mr. Kissinger's biggest fear while living in Germany.

''When you walked down the street, the Hitler Youth could beat you up,'' he said. ''It's not something I should recommend you go through, but it wasn't yet a Holocaust.''

Roselynn Cordero, a budding archeologist, wondered what Mr. Kissinger wanted to do when he was growing up. ''Did you always want to be a Secretary of State?'' she asked, sounding unsure of exactly what that is.

Mr. Kissinger, who worked in a shaving-brush factory as a teen-ager while attending George Washington High School at night, laughed.

''I got paid $11 a week, $10.89,'' he said. ''I gave $8 to my parents; I kept $2.89 for myself.

''The idea to become Secretary of State -- out of the question,'' he said. ''If someone had said to me, in 30 years, you're going to have an office next to the President of the United States, I would have said he's nuts.''